


Ignoring Prophecy

by LemonPetitFour



Series: The Forming of an Elf Built of Wrath [4]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Break Up, Cedric's Visions, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 17:28:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29936913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LemonPetitFour/pseuds/LemonPetitFour
Summary: Cedric had seen the death of Iorveth and Ciaran for years, and both of them refused to heed his warnings. He was done warning. He refused to stay around.-Geralt talks to Iorveth, and learns how his appearance altered destiny.
Relationships: Cedric/Ciaran aep Easnillien/Iorveth, past Cedric/Ciaran aep Easnillien/Iorveth
Series: The Forming of an Elf Built of Wrath [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2191905
Kudos: 7





	Ignoring Prophecy

They had always been around, though as the years passed, they grew more persistent and vivid. They’d gotten worse over the years, more aggressive and worrying. No one took his warnings seriously, no one listened and took action. And Cedric had had enough.

“Get back here, Cedric!” The voice called from behind him, anger pooling in the words, the heat of them practically nipping at the healer’s heels. Cedric stomped on, ignoring his commander. He was liquored up and frustrated. Iorveth wasn’t going to pull him back this time.

He heard the footsteps before the hand grabbed him, braced for the touch. The grasp was painfully tight, pulling Cedric around to look unsteadily at Iorveth. The elf was scowling, pissed, but Cedric knew him well enough. Under all that anger and frustration, fear played it’s way through his face.

“Let go, Iorveth,” He said, voice almost slurred with drink, “This isn’t like the other times. You won’t lure me back in.” He shook the hand off his shoulder. Ciaran came up behind Iorveth, looking stern but worry etching into his eyes, mirroring their commander.

“Cedric, we can work through this,” The second-in-command tried, “We can get you help.” Cedric snarled.

“You’ve offered that each time, and each time it worked in drawing me back into your embraces,” He turned, glaring down at Iorveth, “Not this time. I’m leaving and my decision is final.” He turned and kept moving. He was so tired of it, the visions. He couldn’t lay comfortably with Ciaran and Iorveth when the visions pulled at his thoughts so readily. So uneasily.

“You two do nothing as I warn you, over and over,” He called over his shoulder, stumbling over a root, “If I can’t convince you all to change or move, to save yourselves, then I won’t stick around.” He paused for a second, looking behind him.

“I won’t stick around and watch you let yourselves get killed.” And he turned, kept moving. Iorveth and Ciaran called after him as he left their forest, begged him to return. He wouldn’t.

He couldn’t bear to see Ciaran tortured to death on a prison barge, Iorveth slaughtered by a mountain of a man with a viper medallion around his neck. He warned and cautioned all he could, but the two didn’t listen to him. Took his visions for dreams. Or hoped they were such, not wanting to address them. He refused to stay with them if they wrote him off so easily. He wouldn’t watch them be killed over something that could be so easily avoided.

So he would leave.

-

Ciaran and Iorveth had sat in their cave for days on end, huddled against one another. Only the coaxing of their elves had pulled them out to eat, drink, clean themselves. The Scoia’tael had lost their greatest healer, and were scrambling to find another who had his skill. Iorveth and Ciaran struggled to bring themselves to a sense of normalcy with the absence of their partner.

In those first few days they had hoped he would come back. Ciaran swore to finally do good on his promise to find Cedric help if the elf returned. He planned who he could ask, where he could go, what he could ge-

“He won’t.” Iorveth finally said, days after Cedric’s leave. The two were huddled around a fire, laid near one another under furs to keep them warm. Ciaran turned to face him.

“Who won’t?” He asked. He knew the answer.

“Cedric. He won’t be returning.” Iorveth said, tone vacant. Ciaran sat still for a moment before nodding. He reached up, placing a hand against Iorveth’s unmarred cheek.

“He won’t.” He responded, agreed, voice soft and cracking.

Iorveth sighed, deep, rattling his frame. And then tears streamed down his face. Ciaran followed shortly after. Iorveth would never cry in front of his elves, no matter the situation, but Ciaran was different. His equal. And so Ciaran had the privilege of seeing him cry. Or more so the curse of watching the strongest elf he knew breakdown in his arms.

The two cried, only the crackling of the fire keeping them company. They fell asleep, cheeks wet and salty, and woke up to the dried tears against their skin.

They dressed, and finally went about their day for the first time in what felt like ages. The Scoia’tael were glad to have the two back with them, putting together as lavish as they could manage breakfasts for them both. It was uncomfortable for the two, missing a key part of themselves.

And their new normal began. A little less whole.

-

Geralt could see that Iorveth was troubled. They had just arrived in Vergen, and the elf was frowning up a storm. Of course, the commander had reason to be upset. He had just lost so much. To Geralt’s understanding, two partners in one day, gone without a warning. But this frowning seemed different than the mournful look Geralt had seen on the barge.

This was full of regret, confusion. Dandelion had nudged his witcher friend, hoping to get him to talk to the elf. And, in his awkward way, Geralt did.

“What’s wrong?” Geralt asked once they were alone, or as alone as they could get, tucked behind a corner in the town. Iorveth stared at him.

“You met Cedric, correct, dh’oine?” Iorveth asked, voice sharp. Geralt internally rolled his eyes at the word.

“I did, nice fellow. And I’m no dh’oine.” He said. Iorveth hummed, looking to the side.

“He had visions. I’m sure you could tell he was keeping something away with his drunkenness,” Iorveth waved a hand dismissively, but Geralt could tell despite the act that this was upsetting him. He could smell the pain the mention of the elf brought Iorveth.

“He often told my second-in-command and I about them, about what he thought would happen to us. Ciaran, tortured to death alone on the barge, and I, skewered on the sword of a man with a viper medallion.” He said. Geralt watched, quiet. That was a lot to hear at once.

“You… You altered those events,” Iorveth said, clenching a hand, “I was with Ciaran in his last moments, and I was not killed by Letho. But Cedric, he died, helping that sorceress of yours.” Iorveth said, tone still dripping with bitterness even as he tried to mask it with apathy.

“I’m sorry.” Geralt said awkwardly, unsure of what else to say. Iorveth scowled.

“We didn’t take his words seriously, Gwynbleidd,” Iorveth goes on, stinking of regret, “We wanted to ignore it. If we didn’t acknowledge it then it wouldn’t hurt us. But that hurt Cedric, and I lost a great healer to drunkenness and ignorance. And now we’ve lost him permanently.”

“You lost more than just a healer, Iorveth.” Geralt said, impossibly soft, trying to channel his inner Dandelion with the words. Iorveth sucked in a sharp breath, momentarily misty eyed once more. And then he straightened, scoffed.

“Nothing to do about it now. No use reminiscing. We must move on.” He said, tone haughty as he turned away from Geralt and began walking away.

Geralt frowned, but let the commander leave. It wasn’t his place to keep pushing.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed.  
> I really enjoy writing these, toying around with Iorveth and his relationship with those around him, all of it told from outside perspectives. I have more ideas in mind, but are there any events or ideas you would like to see me explore with Iorveth and his story?  
> Edit: I went back and changed every instance of it saying "medic" to "healer."


End file.
